


Episode I: The Rising Storm

by MissChrisDaae



Series: Across the Stars, Across the Universes [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, Only Anakin and Padmé have been role-swapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7082398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissChrisDaae/pseuds/MissChrisDaae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away….</p><p>Instability reigns in the Outer Rim… The only son of Principate Arawan Saris has started a Revolution against the masters and oppressors of Tatooine, and now struggles to defend and encourage the seeds of a democracy he has started, reaching out to the Galactic Republic for aid.</p><p>While the Senate of the Republic succumbs to its endless politics and debates, the Knights of Jedi Order, the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, dispatch two of their own to settle the conflict….…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Call for Help

The ground shook as a blast came, spraying sand everywhere. Anakin Skywalker swore loudly as the coarse stuff slipped down his body, spitting out a mouthful of it as he turned to look at his brother in arms… the man who should have been his brother.

“I don’t know how much longer we can hold them!” Owen yelled.

“We have to try!” Anakin shouted back. _For Mom._ His mother was what drove him at all hours of the day now. “We are _not_ giving Mos Espa back to those kriffing Hutts, not so long as I’m alive! They’ll run out of daylight soon, and then the next wave will come from our side.” He took the opportunity to reach over the barricade and fire off multiple shots, taking down several of their enemies.

“We’ll never make it that long.”

“If we do, you have to tell Beru tonight.”

“Anakin—”

“What's the matter, Owen? Scared of telling a pretty girl you like her?”

“I don’t think the middle of a war for freedom is the best place for it!” Owen’s frustration seemed to help him focus, or at least improve his aim, and Anakin couldn’t help grinning a little. Then he hated himself. Those kind of machinations were _not_ him. Mom had tried to raise him better than that. The cobbled-together commlink on his wrist beeped weakly.

“Anakin! We’ve got a ship coming in!” Cliegg Lars’ voice crackled on the other end.

“Republic?”

“I don’t know, but you might want to get back here.”

“Clear them for landing, it’ll have to wait till we’re changing waves,” he told his should-have-been father. “I’m not abandoning the fight for a minute longer than I have to.”

Another blast hit not three meters from them, and Anakin managed to cover his face before the sand could hit him in full. _We’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it…_ he told himself. Then he vaulted over the barrier, both blasters out and firing at anything moving, dodging blasts, and even managing to kick one droid out of a speeder and get it up in the air so that he had a better shot of the enemy below.

As he got higher, he could see a luxury barge towards the back of the enemy lines, flying the pennants of Gardulla, and his blood boiled at the thought of the slimy she-beast, the one that had enslaved his mother in the first place, using the deaths of innocent people as entertainment.

He pushed the thrusters to their limit, charging the barge with the intent of dropping the last bomb in his stolen speeder. _Just a little closer…_ His thumb slammed down on the button to fire, making sure the missile launched, then swerved to avoid the incoming blast.

He wasn’t fast enough. The explosion threw him from the cockpit and back in front of the massive line of droids. Kriff, but it hurt _._ The gray monstrosities started to train their blasters on him when two brown-hooded figures jumped over him, glowing beams of green and blue energy shooting out to slice the droids in half, and deflect blasts from the others.

“You seem to have gotten yourself in a spot of trouble,” one of them said, dropping his robe in the sand to reveal light brown hair that was mostly buzzed except for a little tail at the base of his neck and a longer, skinny braid behind one ear. He had a very young face, considering all Anakin’s ideas of Jedi were of old men with white beards.“Perhaps you could use some assistance?”

“You’re a Jedi,” Anakin blurted, like an idiot.

“Padawan,” the young man corrected, extending a hand to pull him upright. “Better head back to that shelter while my master and I are giving you cover.”

“I’m not going to run.” Anakin pulled the blaster from his hip with a scowl and started shooting again. “I’m not afraid to die for what I believe in.”

“Noble sentiment, my friend, but you’ll do your people very little good dead,” the other Jedi said in a fatherly way. “Obi-Wan, get him back to the others, I am behind you.”

“Yes, Master.” Anakin’s lip curled in disgust at the use of that word, and the older Jedi seemed to notice.

“It does not mean to us what it means to you. Now go.”

Before Anakin could protest, he was jerked up in the air and thrown back towards the barricades, landing on his backside in the sand next to Owen. Then the younger Jedi, Obi-Wan, did a very unnecessary flip over the barricade, landing on his feet.

“He’s my teacher. He doesn’t own me,” he explained softly. “That’s not what Master means—”

“Well, it’s what it means here,” Anakin snapped, pulling himself back up to his feet. “I thought Jedi were supposed to be smart.”

“I’m only a Padawan learner. But you’re being very rude, considering you asked for our help.”

“I asked for the Senate’s help!” Anakin turned away, storming towards their base. Cliegg was waiting, leaning heavily on his crutch, still recoveringfrom a bad leg wound sustained during an earlier skirmish. “Gardulla's dead,” Anakin announced. "She won’t be a problem anymore."

“But the other heads of the Hutt Clan might be a bigger one now,” Cliegg warned, “that was reckless, Anakin.”

“It won us the day!”

“But not the war,” the older Jedi interrupted gently. “Your friend is right, young Prince.” Anakin swung around with the intention of backhanding the patronizing old man, but the Jedi caught his hand by the wrist with impossible speed. “I am not your enemy. We would be allies if you could cease your hostile attitude.”

“Don’t ever call me Prince again,” Anakin hissed, yanking his hand away with a scowl. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fighting a war here! I think there’s a damn good reason for me to have a ‘hostile attitude,’ Jedi!”

* * *

Obi-Wan watched as the sandy-haired teenager stormed off to one of the makeshift shelters, frowning at how even the boy’s back seemed angry. “I don’t think I’ve ever met such a rude person in my life, Master.”

“Don’t judge him too harshly, please” the old man with the crutch, Cliegg Lars, requested gently. “He’s had a difficult life, more than you know.”

“Difficult?” Obi-Wan repeated skeptically. “We saw his message to the Senate, he’s the only son and heir of Principate Saris. In what way could a crown prince’s life be difficult?”

“Padawan, do not make assumptions so callously, a Jedi must always know the full extent of the situation before passing any kind of judgment,” Qui-Gon reminded him. “The Principate of Tatooine keep many wives and concubines, the fact that only one of them produced a male heir most likely would have put quite a bit of pressure on him.”

“But we came to help him, surely it wouldn’t be too much to ask that he show a little gratitude, especially after we saved him from those battle droids.”

“He saw his father kill his mother.” A young woman they hadn’t been introduced to interrupted them softly. “The Principate disapproved of Shmi’s presence in Anakin’s life, he executed her personally and made Anakin watch as he did it. That was when he started planning the Revolution. For him, this is more than just the war. This is justice for his mother.”

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged glances, silently relieved that Anakin Saris was most likely not Force sensitive. He would undoubtedly have been a Sith, with a temper like that. “Perhaps proper introductions are in order. My name is Qui-Gon Jinn, this is my Padawan Learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Senate is still debating what to do about your petition, so the Chancellor has sent us with the hope of bringing representatives back to better speak your case, and guarantee Republic aid. And since Anakin sent the first message, and he is the next Principate, in accordance with the current laws, whether or not he accepts it, he is the most preferable…”

“I’ll talk to him,” the young woman offered. “He listens to me.”

“Beru, you know he doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s like this,” Anakin’s companion from the battlefield pointed out. “Just leave him alone a little while. He’ll be fine by sundown.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have that kind of time. Every rotation that passes means that your cause will lose momentum in the Senate.”

“Then I’d better get to work.” Beru hurried after Anakin, leaving the two Jedi with Lars, and whoever the younger man who looked similar was… probably his son.

“A few words of advice, if you want Anakin to be a bit more receptive to you,” Lars said to Qui-Gon. “Don’t use his father’s name. He prefers using his mother’s, Skywalker. And I know it doesn’t mean the same thing to you that it does to him, but he gets… very passionate about the use of the word _master_. And remember that he is only sixteen standard years.”

Obi-Wan had been Qui-Gon’s Padawan for nearly four years by the time he’d been sixteen, he didn’t see the issue, but he kept his mouth shut, instead fingering his lightsaber hilt somewhat impatiently. Anakin’s companion peered at him curiously. “Can I help you?”

“Are you going to help us if the Senate won’t give the aid we need?”

“That depends entirely on the Council’s decision. Jedi are peacekeepers, not warriors. Not soldiers.” He tried to be polite but firm, though the younger man’s face still fell.

“I thought Jedi are supposed to protect people. We need that, whether or not Anakin admits it.”

“Owen, don’t bother him,” Lars ordered with a gruff kind of fondness not unlike how Qui-Gon would often address Obi-Wan. “They didn’t have to come here in the first place. We should take whatever help we can get and be grateful for it.”

“Yes, Dad.” Owen shuffled his boots in the sand just as Beru returned with Anakin in tow. “Hey…” His voice got softer and he smiled in a way that was nigh impossible to see as anything other than infatuated.

“Remember our deal,” Anakin said to his friend as he moved past him, “because when I get back with these two and the Republic reinforcements we need, I want another reason to celebrate.” Owen’s smile turned to wordless sputtering as Anakin looked from Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon. “I just have to get my droid, then we can go.”

“A _droid_?” Obi-Wan repeated incredulously, unable to stop himself from blurting it out, and earned himself a glare from the boy because of it. 

“I made Threepio myself, to help my mother, he’s a protocol droid. I could use his help. I’m not a politician, as I have often been reminded.”

“We’ll prepare our ship for takeoff, it’s already in the hangar, can you meet us there?” Qui-Gon asked, wisely opting not to further discuss the subject of the droid, and Anakin nodded, disappearing into one of the many doors that were scattered about the structure Tatooine’s rebels were using as their base. “Come, Padawan.”

“Master, I don’t know how long we’ll be able to last around him, he’s so… _uncivilized_.”

“Then it falls to us to be the civilized ones. Do not fall to his level,” Qui-Gon instructed him calmly as they boarded their ship. “You are still lacking in control at times, Obi-Wan. It is why the Council has not yet allowed you to take the trials.”

“You do not have to remind me, Master,” Obi-Wan muttered with a touch of petulance, just as Anakin walked into the ship with his shabby looking protocol droid.

“How do you do? I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. How might I serve you?”

“You don’t have to do that to them, Threepio, they’re Jedi, not diplomats,” Anakin scolded, sitting in one of the seats towards the back of the ship and taking out a small toolkit to fiddle with . “We’re ready whenever you are.” The imperious attitude was still far too grating for Obi-Wan’s tastes, but he would suffer through it because it was his duty. And he tried to keep that in mind as they took off and shot into the vast reaches of space. At the very least, maybe they wouldn’t have to come back to this barren waste of a planet again.

* * *

“ _You told me there was no way he would be given the help he requested!”_

_“Patience, my friend.”_

_“_ ** _Patience?_ ** _The boy has fled the planet, and he managed to kill Gardulla herself today! I have had it with_ **_patienc_** _ **e** , I want him dealt with!”_

_“A father’s love is truly a remarkable thing to see,” Sidious croaked through the holo. “But rest assured, all will be made right in time, Principate Saris.”_

_“How do you think you can find him? He was traveling with Jedi, according to my spies—”_

_“Then we shall send the natural predator of the Jedi. We shall send a Sith.”A second hooded figure appeared, his face covered in savage tribal markings that would frighten even the most ruthless of Tusken raiders. “This is my apprentice, Lord Maul. And I assure you , Arawan, he is more than capable of stopping those Jedi and retrieving your wayward son for… proper discipline.” The transmission cut out, and Saris turned away, rubbing at his temples as a means of avoiding the other four Hutt clan leaders’ gaze._

_“There you have it. The little bastard will be retrieved. You’ll keep your hold.”_

_He didn’t need to speak Huttese to know what they were saying to him. Failure would not be tolerated. If he wanted to keep his position and his life, his son would have to die. If Arawan Saris had ever had any fondness for the boy, it had to be extinguished now. Once this absurd little civil war was over, he could see about getting a new heir._


	2. Crash Landing

Padmé Naberrie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then launched herself over the PROXY droid, knocking its lightsaber out of its hand with her foot just before she landed. “Another… excellent session, Miss.” Her chest swelled with pride as she deactivated her own saber.

“If you were really able to use the Force like me, we wouldn’t be done,” she pointed out. “I need a proper teacher, PROXY, are you _sure_ Uncle hasn’t sent a message about when he’s going to come back?” Just then, the entire hillside seemed to shake, and out in the garden, she heard her sister scream. “Sola!” Forgetting everything else, Padmé rushed out to find Sola thrown to the ground, staring up at a star cruiser that had crashed just above the villa. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Sola reassured her, getting to her feet. “They just… came out of nowhere, one of their engines was burning.” 

“I can help with that!” Padmé clenched her jaw in focus, and called on the water of the lake below, lifting up a huge sphere of it to the still smoking ship.

“Padmé, be careful—”

“I got it!” Of course, as she said it, she lost her concentration and the water fell. At least it doused the flames of the cruiser. “Or I did…”

“You know you’re not supposed to do that so frivolously,” her older sister scolded.

“I was helping!”

“Well, we’d better go see if there are any survivors. And get the astromech.” Sola brushed herself off, then wiped the sweat off Padmé’s forehead. 

“Okay!” The eleven year old ran back into the house cellar. “Artoo, come on! There’s been a crash.” The little droid beeped and whirred as it wheeled itself out to join the two sisters, and all three of them left the villa’s grounds to start up the hill, towards the wreck of the ship. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” 

“Hey!”

The replying shout was so loud that Padmé whirled around and activated her saber, only to find that she was pointing it at a startled man with short, spiky hair and a braid, and an older looking man with very long hair and a beard. Both of them were peering at her with what could only be called curiosity. “Where did you get that lightsaber?” the older man asked.

“Uncle sent it to Sola, Sola gave it to me,” Padmé said suspiciously, still pointing the lightsaber at his stomach. “Why?” He pulled aside his cloak, revealing a silver hilt that was all too familiar, and Padmé’s eyes lit up eagerly. “Did Uncle send you here? Am I ready?”

“My dear girl, I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Padmé, why don’t you take Artoo to their ship, see if we can’t help get it fixed up,” Sola suggested, and Padmé shut off her saber, putting it back at her hip so that she could watch her sister and the two Jedi. “I can take you gentlemen back to our home and get you something to eat.”

“That is very kind of you, thank you… Sola, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Sola Naberrie. And this is Padmé, my little sister.”

“My name is Qui-Gon Jinn.” He bowed to the two of them. “And my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Perhaps he could escort your sister back to our ship and passenger, I have some questions I should like to ask you.”

“Of course, Master Jinn… Please, this way.”

“We’re up a little further,” Obi-Wan offered Padmé his hand. “Follow me.”

“I grew up here, I can walk by myself,” she retorted impatiently, climbing up towards the wreck. “Do you have another Jedi on your ship?”

“No, he’s someone we need to get to the Senate on Coruscant. It was a mission from the Chancellor—”

“ _Kriff!_ ” someone shouted from the wreck as it came into view. “Consular-class cruiser, yeah, right, you’re a pile of spare parts just waiting to happen!”

“Master Ani—”

“Do _not_ call me that, Threepio!” The speaker turned out to be a soot-covered, sandy-haired boy who looked about five years older than her, yelling at a dingy brass protocol droid.

“Go help them out, Artoo,” Padmé suggested, bending down and giving her astromech a loving tap on his dome. The little fellow beeped happily and jetted over, making the boy look up.

“Who’s she?”

“Padmé. This is my hill you’re on,” she replied imperiously, then softened a bit when she saw the disgust on his face. “Well, I mean, this estate is my family’s… So… it’s only sort of mine. But I think of it as mine—”

“That’s great, kid, but I’m trying to fix a ship right now.”

“You should let Artoo do it, he’s the best astromech in the galaxy.”

“Big praise.”

“Well, I mean it.” Padmé climbed up on the undamaged wing to peer down at him. “You’re not a very happy person, are you?”

“My entire planet is involved in a war for its freedom. I don’t have many reasons to be happy,” Ani snapped.

“Where are you from?”

“Tatooine.”

“Where’s that?”

“You ask a lot of annoying questions.”

“You three are the first people who aren’t Paddy Accu I’ve ever seen come to the villa.”

“Should I take that to mean you’ve never left this villa, Padmé?” Obi-Wan asked her, carefully probing.

“Not once. I needed to stay here and train, and Paddy takes really good care of us, he’s kind of like our father…. since we don’t have parents, and Uncle hasn’t come back yet.”

“Will you stop talking, I’m trying to work here!”

“Sorry, Ani.”

“Anakin. My name is Anakin, you don’t get to call me Ani.”

“Ugh, fine, you big grouch.” Padmé rolled her eyes and hopped off the ship again, grabbing the sleeve of Obi-Wan’s thick brown robe.“What’s a Padawan?”

“It means learner. I’m Qui-Gon’s apprentice, until I take the trials to become a Knight.”

“When’s that?”

“I… don’t know. I’m not ready yet.”

“Well, would you fight with me?”

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan looked at her in disbelief.

“Fight with me,” she repeated. “I’ve never trained with anyone other than PROXY. I need a challenge.” 

“Well… perhaps later. Anakin, what should I tell Qui-Gon about the ship?”

“I should be able to have it ready for travel by tomorrow morning, but it may not be completely sturdy—” Artoo beeped, and Anakin scoffed. “Okay, fine, it _definitely_ won’t be completely sturdy. But it just has to get us through hyperspace and all the way to Coruscant, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“You can stay with me and Sola, we’ve got space,” Padmé chirped, trying to be helpful. “And you can train with me there!”

“I think you should let your sister make that offer first.”

"She'll say yes."

Obi-Wan's furrowed brow went deeper into his face as his eyes looked her over. "I suppose we should go ask her now, then. Anakin, do you want us to—"

"I can handle myself, I don't need to be babied. Go on, I don't care what you do."

"I'll still tell her to make more food for you. Because I'm a nice person."

"Humble too," Obi-Wan remarked dryly as they descended the hill and he put a hand on her shoulder, as if he were her big brother. Padmé found she rather liked the idea of a brother. Maybe that was what Jedi were, just an enormous family that could all use the Force. 

* * *

"Tell me of your sister," Qui-Gon requested as he sat with the young woman in the rather luxurious solar. The entire residence felt more like it belonged to a noble family than to two young women with no parents, and it puzzled him almost as much as little Padmé herself. "Everything you can, please."

"I'm not entirely sure you'd believe me, Master Jedi," Sola admitted, sitting beside him and pouring each of them a cup of tea. "I barely believe she's real myself... By logic, she shouldn't be possible."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... when I was a child, we lived up in a village in the mountains. We moved to Theed when Father got a job teaching architecture at university... He died in a fire on the campus less than a year after taking the job, and Mother decided we should come live here, at my grandmother's old retreat."

"She must have been a woman of standing."

"The Naberrie name is an old and noble one, yes."

"How old was Padmé at the time?"

Sola hesitated, biting her lip. "She... She wasn't, Master Jedi. Mother didn't start showing the signs that she was pregnant with Padmé until a few months after my father died, and I know she wasn't seeing anyone, not while she was in mourning for Father. Padmé... She has no father, she just somehow... Came to be."

The lines in the Jedi master's weary face deepened. "And the uncle Padmé spoke of? Do you know his name?"

"He never gave it... He just showed up a few days after Padmé was born. I had to help mother deliver her, there was an awful storm, so we couldn't get anyone to help. Old Uncle came because he once lived here too, and he sensed Padmé's gifts, even then. He tried to help me save Mother from childbed fever, but it was already too late. I was too overwhelmed by everything else to ask his name."

"I am very sorry for your loss."

"So am I. Mother loved Padmé, I wish they'd gotten to actually know each other." Sola took a long drink of her tea. "Uncle helped me bury our mother, and hired Paddy Accu to be our caretaker. He gets all the food and supplies we need, including the equipment for Padmé's training. Before he left, Uncle promised he would come back for Padmé when she was old enough, so that she could be properly trained. I don't have the heart to tell Padmé, but I think he must be dead, otherwise he would have come for her by now."

"Would you have any objections then, if I were to bring her with us to Coruscant, as soon as our ship is repaired? I could present her to the council, and her training could be started properly."

He watched Sola stare intently at the cup in her hands, her lips pursed as if she were trying to decipher some kind of sign in the liquid. "I wouldn't get to see her again, would I?"

"That is the standard procedure. You two are already clearly very attached, that is not something the Order teaches. I give you my word, she will be in very good hands,” Qui-Gon promised.

“I’m sure she will, but they won’t be _my_ hands. I’m the only person she’s ever really known, and I’m worried about what that will be like for her.” The young woman removed her hairpins, letting thick brown waves tumble about her shoulders before drinking again. “I love my sister more than anything in the entire galaxy, more than my own life. I’ll do everything I can to help her, and I want what’s best for her… I didn’t just expect it to be so sudden.”

“I’m afraid it has to be, we’re on a mission of some urgency to Coruscant.”

“At least give me the chance to talk to her privately, before you bring this up to her.” Sola stood up. “I should get supper finished, I think Padmé took your apprentice down to her training room. I’m sure you can find them.”

“We are quite grateful for your hospitality.” Qui-Gon rose to his feet and bowed to her before seeking out Obi-Wan’s Force Signature. He located it one floor down, along with an astonishingly bright one that must have belonged to Padmé. That she had never been discovered before now was incredibly difficult to believe, she was practically a beacon, shining as brightly as Master Yoda. He retrieved his commlink from inside his robes, turning it over in his hands as he descended the stairs to meet them.

“No, like this.”

“Are you sure? PROXY always said—”

“Just try it this way.” Qui-Gon stepped in just in time to see Obi-Wan adjusting Padmé’s stance for a Makashi strike against a droid. “One moment…” The Padawan stepped back to allow her room to make the motion. The girl threw her entire body into making the attack, and while it did force the droid back, it showed some very clear gaps in her training.

“Ataru might be better suited for those kinds of motions,” suggested Qui-Gon, causing his apprentice to straighten and bow, and Padmé to deactivate her blade and follow suit. “Sola has summoned us all for supper. Best you wash up.”

“Right away, sir!” Padmé rushed past him, tugging Obi-Wan by the hand, and leaving the older Jedi no choice but to follow. He would ask about see about testing her blood later.

* * *

The comms on the ship buzzed, breaking Anakin’s concentration as he rewired the engine. The little R2 unit whistled and beeped, and he groaned. “Yes, I hear it. Just give me a second, this isn’t something I can—” Artoo wheeled over and started prodding at the wires, smacking Anakin’s hands away. “Okay, okay, fine.” He stepped aside and activated the comm. “Yeah?”

“Our hostess is serving supper now, if you’d care to join us,” Qui-Gon told him. “If not, I can send Obi-Wan up with something for you.”

“I’ll come down,” Anakin cut him off. He didn’t care if the Jedi claimed otherwise, he talked about his ‘Padawan’ as if he were there just to serve… all he could think was that it _reeked_ of slavery. “Threepio, watch the ship while I’m gone,” he told his own droid as he listed himself off and headed down the hill.

Though the house was small, it was nicer than anything he’d seen on Tatooine, made of glossy pink and white stones and blue tinted tiles on the roof. It looked clean, soft and smooth, the kind of place his mother might have created for him in one of the stories she would tell when he was a little boy…

He wished she could have seen it, could have seen everything he was struggling to comprehend at this moment, the vast expanses of green, and height, and noises coming from animals he didn’t recognize, and the scents.… There were smells wafting through the air, scents both spicy and and sharp and sweet, none of which he had a name for, with the exception of water. Clear, sweet water, practically assaulting his nostrils, making him salivate with want, and more than a little jealousy. Why couldn’t he have been born here?

There was an open gate onto a shiny stone floor that led to a door, so he followed the path down to it, looking around at the splendor of it all. “Hello?” he called, suddenly hesitant. He _was_ kind of trespassing.

A woman a few years older than him with brown hair and a long, kind face stepped out, holding a bowl filled with bread and something else he’d never seen before. “You must be the young man the Jedi mentioned…. Anakin, yes?”

“Uh… yes, ma’am.”

“Call me Sola. Please, please, come in, I’m just getting dinner on the table. I hope you’re hungry.” His stomach chose that moment to growl, and he blushed, ducking his head as Sola laughed. “Good, good, I made plenty for everyone.” She took him by the arm and pulled him inside before he could protest.

The little girl, Padmé, was seated between the two Jedi, eyes wide as she listened to Qui-Gon go on about the Council or something like that. Anakin didn’t really care, he just grabbed the chair that was as far from the three of them as possible. Padmé held up her hand, and one of the green things floated up out of the basket towards her.

“Padmé, put it down,” Sola scolded. “You know the rules, shuura is for dessert.”

“So why do you put them in with the five blossom bread?” Padmé whined, letting the shuura drop to the middle of the table and folding her arms.

“Listening to your elders and showing them respect is an important part of being a Jedi, young one,” Qui-Gon told her. That made the little girl straighten and levitate the fruit back to its place in the bowl as Sola set it down and went to retrieve another two plates, filled with food, again more colorful than anything Anakin had seen in his life.

“All of this is just for five people?” he asked incredulously. No one in Tatooine outside his father’s circle had this much food at any point, and yet there had been this much in a larder for one small woman and an even smaller girl. “It’s… it’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Mother always said it’s better to overfeed guests than underfeed them,” Sola explained as Padmé peered at him curiously. Anakin returned the look with a glare.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It makes you sad.” Her brown eyes were… kind? “I’m sorry… People shouldn’t have to be sad.”

“I’ve seen a lot worse than sad in my life. I feel sorry if sad’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen, the world’s not going to be a good place for you,” he replied quietly. Padmé pushed her chair back and went to hug him from behind. Anakin stiffened a little at the unexpected contact, then managed to relax a little. “You don’t have to do that….”

“You looked like you needed it,” she told him, squeezing a little before she let go and went back to her chair and started eating. Anakin found he couldn’t do the same, he was too busy staring at this strange, strange little girl.


	3. Back on Course

Obi-Wan sat quietly on one of the plush red couches as Sola held one of Padmé’s hands and Qui-Gon took a blood sample from her other arm. The little girl bit her lip, but did not cry out, which was admirable, considering what he’d seen of children her age who were not trained in the Temple.

“Take this back to the ship and get a midi-chlorian count,” his master requested, passing the comm to Obi-Wan. The apprentice nodded, accepting the comm with great solemnity. "And make certain you check on young Anakin too," added Qui-Gon.

"I will, Master." Obi-Wan tucked the comm inside the sleeve of his robe as he headed back up the hill again. When he arrived at the ship, he found Anakin talking with the little astromech and his own droid.

“I don’t know, they’ve been gone for a long time. I… I hope they’re happy, wherever they are."

"I'm sure the Principate made certain they were well provided for," C-3P0 declared. In response, the astromech let out a series of trills and beeps that sounded vaguely profane, though Obi-Wan did not know binary as well as he should have. Either way, it made Anakin laugh.

"You're a smart little fella, aren't you?"

"Will you mind terribly if I intrude?" Obi-Wan interrupted, speaking as politely as he might have before the Council. "I need to use the ship's computer."

"Fine." There seemed to be one fewer measure of anger in the young prince's voice, but enough of a measure that Obi-Wan attempted to initiate a conversation.

"Who are 'they?'" he asked as he loaded Padmé's sample into the system. Anakin looked over at him with narrowed eyes, then sighed.

"My sisters. The older ones. None of them have returned to Tatooine since Saris sold them to whatever men offered him the most for them."

"They were married for political gain, you mean?"

"No, I don't. Marriage is for love, not one man giving another man weapons and ships in exchange for one of his children. That's no different than slavery."

"And yet you hope they're happy?"

"You don't grow up in a place like Tatooine without learning how to survive. My sisters... I can only hope they found a way to make the best of their new lives. If nothing else, I can save the younger set from meeting the same fate."

"How many are there in the younger set?" Obi-Wan prompted gingerly.

"Four now. And another four in the older set. I'm in the middle."

"And in all that time, only one son..." The statement had been said more in thinking aloud, but Anakin heard it and clenched both his fist and his jaw.

"I've buried brothers, Jedi. Some who died from illness, some assassinated, and some who never even got to draw breath as they stole life from their mothers. I've watched Saris execute women simply because they failed by giving him daughters. Do you want to know what he said to me after he cut off my mother's head? Do you?!"

Even if Obi-Wan had said he did not want to, nothing had prepared him for the strength of Anakin's pain and hatred, practically broadcasting the memory. He saw Arawan Saris activate a crackling darksaber, its black blade seeming to suck all light from the room. He saw the field of vision shift and seethe as Anakin thrashed against the guards holding him back while Saris raised the saber over a wearied brunette woman. He saw the woman's lips form the words _I love you_ , just as the blade came down and Anakin's sight blurred further with tears and pain. " _You will rule some day, boy,_ " he heard Saris declare. " _Affections will only interfere with that. Especially for those that are beneath you._ "

Bolstering his mental shields, Obi-Wan took a step back. "I see it. And I am truly sorry both for the cruelties he inflicted upon her and you, and for my own transgressions as you have perceived them."

Anakin stared at him, eyes almost dull in his slack-jawed face. "How..."

"You have a very strong mind. I did not mean to see your memories, and I am sorry for the intrusion, unintentional though it was."

"I want her back." The sixteen-year-old sounded far younger now, more childish and small. "He wouldn't even let me bury her."

"She is with you still," Obi-Wan said, drawing on the lessons he had learned in the Temple. "Her spirit remains with the Force, and the Force is present in all the galaxy."

"The other women in the seraglio said the same kind of things. I never believed them when they said it. What makes you saying it different?"

"Perhaps because they themselves did not believe what they were telling you. There are many who simply say things without truly believing them." The ship's monitor beeped, and the results of Padmé's blood test scrolled across the display, much to Obi-Wan's shock. "Impossible..."

"What? What is it?" Anakin moved closer to peer over Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I don't get it, all I'm seeing is a number."

"That number is a midi-chlorian count," Obi-Wan explained numbly. "One that is higher than the most powerful Jedi on the Council." He knew he had to tell Qui-Gon, but he wasn't fully certain his Master would believe him.

* * *

"We're leaving, aren't we?" Padmé asked as Sola tucked her into bed, covers all the way up to her chin so that the late night chill off the lake would not affect her through the open window. "We're going with the Jedi, so I can train properly." Sola's eyes shone more than usual, and through the Force, Padmé felt her sister's sorrow. "What?"

"Sweetheart, I won't be going with you. I can't be a Jedi."

Padmé shot upright so quickly that her curls went bursting from the careful nighttime braid she usually wore. "What does one have to do with the other? You can live nearby and come see me, and we can make five blossom bread on my birthday—"

"Padmé, you know that's not how the Jedi do things. We have to say goodbye tomorrow."

"For good?"

"Probably."

The younger Naberrie sister leaned in, hugging the elder tight. They both quickly fell into old habits, Sola leaning against the headboard and Padmé nestled in her lap, cheek pressed to shoulder as they both rocked back and forth. "I'll miss you," Padmé said in a very tiny voice.

"And I'll miss you too, baby. But this is what you've trained for, dreamed of, all your life. I won't make you give it up for me."

"I'll be the best Jedi ever," the little girl swore vehemently. "You'll hear all about my adventures, and all the people I'm going to help, and you'll know I'm okay. But you've got to make me a promise."

"What promise is that?"

"You've got to be your best too." Lightsaber calloused fingers squeezed work-hardened hands tightly. "You've only ever taken care of me, Sola, and you're really good at it. But you need more."

"Hey." Sola cupped her sister's face in her hand. "I get what you're saying, but I have never regretted a minute of my life with you, not a single one. I love you."

"Promise," Padmé insisted stubbornly, "because I love you too, and I want you to be happy even without me."

Sola laughed a little, ruffling her sister's hair before re-braiding it. "I'll never really be without you, nor will you be without me. Sisters always take a little piece of each other wherever they go."

But before she could tuck Padmé back in, the child felt a change in her bones, something fast, something that felt like it was both burning and freezing. "What's that?" She opened her hand, summoning her saber as she wriggled out of Sola's arms and stepped carefully towards the door, her thumb on the ignition switch.

The feeling intensified, she could feel something probing at her mind, and pushed back defiantly, just enough to catch a glimpse of a blurry blue face. Anakin's face.

Then the dark presence forced her out so strongly that she nearly cried. Master Qui-Gon burst through the door. "We must go now. Change of plans."

"But—"

"Now!" Qui-Gon picked Padmé up, carrying her under his arm as he bolted out onto her terrace and vaulted over her balcony railing to the ground below. The girl might have screamed if it hadn't all happened so quickly and if Qui-Gon had not still been carrying her as he ran up the hill towards the ship. "Obi-Wan!" He shouted, for want of a comm. "Obi-Wan!"

"Wait, my sister! What if that thing hurts her!"

"Trust me, Padmé, Sola is not the target of this attacker." Padmé opened her mouth to protest, but the Jedi master did not give her the chance, tossing her through the air and into Obi-Wan's arms before leaping up into the ship himself. "We must get to Coruscant now."

"I don't know if the ship can take it," Anakin warned from the pilot's seat.

"It must," Qui-Gon told him severely as the airlocks sealed and the engines groaned to life, "or our mission to get you there safely will end in death for all of us."

"Better hold on tight, then." Padmé rushed to the nearest viewport as Anakin punched a rapid series of buttons on the console. "Kid! You're gonna want to sit!" But Padmé didn't truly hear what he was saying, she was trying too desperately to use the Force and find the familiar warmth of her sister before they cleared Naboo's atmosphere. A jolt sent her flying backward and into Artoo, who beeped at her in a very Sola way.

"Okay, I get it," she mumbled, climbing up into the nearest alcove and wrapping one of the thick brown robes that had been discarded as she renewed her efforts. There was a rippling feeling through her as they left Naboo behind. Probably forever. “Sola…”

"Take over for me," she heard someone say, and then Anakin was suddenly sitting next to her. "Hey... She'll be okay." From his belt, he took out a little white block and a small leather bundle, which he unrolled to reveal a set of tools. “I’ve got older sisters too… they know how to take care of themselves, and I’m sure she does too.” He took one of the tools and started carving marks into the white square.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do. Take a few deep breaths, tell yourself it’ll be okay. Have faith in her." Padmé tried to obey his instructions but his task kept pulling her attention. He worked for a few more moments with the tiny chisel, then unscrewed the lid from a little jar filled with a brown mixture and dipped a skinny brush inside. "Any better now?"

"A little," she conceded, watching him paint the funny swirls and shapes he'd carved on the block, which now looked more like the little hourglass of sand she used to time her training sessions in its shape.

"Atta girl." He finished his work with the brush and chiseled out a little hole on one side of the little trinket. "Kriff, I forgot a chain. Do you mind if I take the ribbon from your braid?" For a moment, Padmé hesitated, then she shook her head no, and he carefully reached into her curls to disentangle the strip of white silk. Once it was free, he poked it through the hole of his little creation and looped it around her neck, tying it at the back. "There we go."

"What is it?" she asked, taking the pendant in hand to look at it better.

"It's a talisman, made from a japor snippet. They're given as tokens of good fortune," Anakin explained, pulling a similar one from beneath his collar. "My mom made this one for me when I was born. I've never ever taken it off, not once."

"Are you sure you don't need more good luck?" she asked worriedly, trying to lift it up over her head before he stopped her.

"That's not how the charm works. It brings luck that someone else has wished for you," he answered, leaning in and hugging her. While it was wonderful to have someone warm nearby, Padmé couldn't help frowning up at him a little in confusion.

"Why are you being so nice? I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you. I'm just... not a very happy person right now. And besides..." He paused, giving her a ver serious look with his lightsaber-blue eyes. "You looked like you needed it.”

As he used her own words, she couldn’t help smiling. “I bet the Senate’ll give you everything you need. Then you’ll be happy all the time, right?” Anakin gave a half-hearted little laugh, and for a moment, the creases in his forehead disappeared, replaced by crinkles around his eyes as he smiled at her. He was kind of handsome when he didn’t look angry. If he’d been a happier person, she might have teased Sola about getting him as a boyfriend at supper.

She’d never get to tease Sola again. Even if her sister was alive, Padmé was going to be a Jedi now, and there was no going back. It was a scarier thought than she had realized when they were talking in her bedroom.

“I’m gonna go back to talk to the Jedi. Are you gonna be okay here, or do you want me to stay?”

“Stay a little longer, please? I… I need a friend right now.”

“We both do.” He pulled the cloak up to her chin, making her both smile and miss Sola at the same time. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep. I promise. And I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”


End file.
